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dining room table than deal with that photogenic but unfortunate head case. Will all of my
stipulations be met when it comes to working with her? If not, I do not even know why we are having
this conversation.
According to her agent, Liesl handled Fashion Week with only one mini-tantrum, and she
was there for every single one of her shows. She s on her meds and her people have agreed to have
her therapist onsite when you re there.
If she is late by so much as a minute, I walk. I refuse to wait like a dumbass for her or
anyone while they sit sulking in their trailer because they do not have the right bottled water.
That s not going to happen again.
Damn right. He rubbed at his eyes once more. It wasn t more satisfying than roaring his
frustration at the top of his lungs, but it d have to do. When and where do they want to shoot?
Jamaica, at the end of March, which is& He heard a couple taps on a keyboard. Two
weeks from now. Can you wrap up your, er& investigation by then?
No. Then he shook his head. I have no idea.
Estelle made a sound of sympathy. How s it coming?
With the exception of stumbling across the hottest woman he d ever been lucky enough to lay
eyes on, this journey of his was striking out in the worst way. I suspect the only correct information
Marcel Dubois gave me was his first and last name. Everything else is starting to look like nothing
more than a fantasy-filled load of bullshit.
But Dubois was Frank Bournival s assistant. He was present when Bournival funded House
Of Payne s beginning.
I have no doubt that Marcel Dubois knew the basics of the deal. But to say that Scout Upton
traded sex for that funding, then carried that mercenary practice further by sleeping her way into a
sick old man s will is ridiculous.
I don t know, came the thoughtful reply. From what you ve told me about this Scout Upton,
she came from the inner city, right?
Right. So?
So& a smart girl and a pretty girl would do just about anything to get out of that concrete
hell.
Enough. The heat of unformed fury seethed from that one word, leaving shocked silence in
its wake. But it couldn t be helped. Whatever happened between Scout and Frank Bournival was
years ago. He wouldn t have it taint the amazing woman she was now.
Ivar. Estelle s voice was both careful and gentle. I m not judging, okay? Her, or you.
You have no idea who this woman really is.
I hate to say it, but neither do you.
Yes, I do. I have looked into her eyes. I know who she is, and it is not what that Dubois
asshole claimed.
Why would he lie?
The calm, eminently logical question made him want to throw his phone. Instead he grabbed
up his camera with his free hand and once again searched for Scout s place. There she was, in a
frilly, girlie bit of nothing sitting on the edge of her big bed rubbing some kind of lotion on her lower
legs.
In an instant he calmed, the angry churning inside him stilling into a beautiful peace as he
watched her hand glide over her flesh. He d bet anything that whatever she was rubbing into her skin
smelled like flowers. Roses, maybe. Or honeysuckle.
Damn. It was a crime she didn t sleep naked. If she did, she d probably rub it all over her
body before going to bed.
He d be happy to help her with that, if and when he ever got the chance.
And he d do fucking anything to get that chance.
Maybe Dubois felt he got shafted in Bournival s will, he answered at last, shifting in his
seat when his flesh swelled so fast the pressure behind his zipper became a sweet, teeth-gritting
agony. Maybe the man is pissed she became successful with House Of Payne while he never set the
world on fire. Who knows? All he knew at the moment was that if he didn t do something soon, he d
empty himself right there in his shorts.
He heard his manager sigh. Ultimately, you need to find out one thing, and one thing only if
she knows what Frank Bournival s connection is to you, if any. Right?
Right.
You ve got a couple more weeks to figure it out, so stay zeroed in on that. But then life has to
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